The Towers Sang
by Little Minamino
Summary: And I cried.


I swore I wouldn't cry. That when the time came for her to leave that I would remain dry-eyed and happy, smiling and unafraid. Because if I didn't cry, if I somehow managed to make it through without a single tear, that meant that somehow, somewhere, something had changed. And that maybe, just maybe, I wouldn't lose her.

I always knew what River was to me. How could I not? It was more than just knowing my name, it was the way she touched my hand and my face and gazed into my eyes with so much love and certainty that I just knew, this was a woman that would move time itself for me.

I fought it at first. I refused to play fate's game and allow that future to come to pass. It didn't matter that she'd told me not to change a thing. I am the Doctor. I am no one's slave and time? Time is subject to _me_.

I was long gone before I'd even realized I'd begun.

I shouldn't be surprised. I wasn't surprised. She was a mystery, ripe for discovering. All happiness and coy flirtations and that ever present knowledge. She was my life-line, my safety net. The one person I always knew I could count on because, from that very first moment, she was always, always there. A rush of life and love so fervent and strong that how could I not get swept up by her? How could I continue to deny my feelings when I couldn't even stop them from developing in the first place?

Not even a dam can stop a raging river.

She didn't tell me, of course, that I would spend that last night making love to her over and over. That I would wrap her up in my arms and map the dips and rises of her body like a master cartographer because I never, _never_, wanted to forget that this was my River. My heart. My wife.

She was always better with the rules than me.

And in that moment, as I watched her sleep and thought back to the beginning of that night and that sense of déjà vu that washed over me when I raced after her and told her she had walked into the wrong TARDIS, all I could see was that look on my younger self's face. The despair. The fear. The pain.

The hate.

I had never hated myself more than in the moment that I watched my older self walk away with River for what I knew would be the last time.

I hadn't planned to make love to her that first night, I wanted us to get to know each other first. I wanted it to be slow and sweet and so very, very special. Instead it was fast and hard and desperate as I gasped her name into her neck and clung to her arms and back so hard there were marks in the morning. She didn't complain. Her response was the perfect blend of flirtatious and shy as she pulled me back down for another round.

I always regretted it. I spent three hundred years trying to make it up.

But that night, that truly last night, we got the night I wanted for her that very first time.

The towers were deserted when we arrived, I arranged it that way on purpose. I didn't want any interruptions.

I watched her face light up with joy and anticipation as we took our places on the mass of pillows and blankets I'd meticulously arranged beforehand. Her hair was wild and free, the way I liked it best, and her eyes shown in the starlight. I was reaching for her before the towers even began.

I loved her slowly, perfectly, and hated myself the whole time because I knew what I was sending her to. I knew what she would meet. And it wasn't even the thought of losing her that scared me so badly, though I knew without a doubt that a part of me would die that night and that I would probably (definitely) never recover.

It was him that I so feared. I was sending her back to a me that didn't know her, didn't love her, didn't appreciate or respect her. I was sending her to a me that didn't deserve her. And that was the me that would be there at the very end. That would stare at her, unable to comprehend the depth and the magnitude of the sacrifice River was making because he didn't know. _I_ didn't know.

I thought I saved her.

I told her I loved her that night, over and over as I tried my best to show her. I wanted that night to last forever. I prayed the towers wouldn't sing. I swore I wouldn't cry.

There were so many things I wanted to say.

_I love you. Don't' leave me. I love you. I need you. I love you. I love you. I love you._

The towers sang.

And I cried.


End file.
